Page 225 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

The household checkbook was in the lap drawer. He pulled it out and flipped it open to see if he needed to transfer funds to cover the purchase he intended to make. Only two hundred dollars, he’d better transfer some money. He got out the savings book and opened it.

His eyes widened at the figure at the bottom. It was over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars less than he’d expected. Where had it gone? The entries listed didn’t add up to the final total. A final total in Becca’s handwriting had a notation to the side that said ADJUSTMENT.

He pulled the phone toward him and dialed the bank. After being transferred to accounting, he explained the discrepancy.

“We show several transferals of fifty thousand dollars to a Rebecca Lynn Baxter’s account,” the woman told him. “Is there a problem, Mr. Duncan?”

“Would you fax me the details of those transactions, please?” he said. This couldn’t be true. Becca wouldn’t do something like this. Embezzle from her own grandmother? It didn’t make sense.

He hung up the phone and put it down. Surely there was some explanation. Could Gram have asked Becca to do this? Or maybe Gram herself had done it.

All his questions about Becca came surging back. Had she come here to get close to her grandmother for money? She’d been in school a while and maybe she had large education bills to pay. Gram would have been more than happy to help with that.

He shook his head. Not two hundred and fifty thousand dollars worth of school bills. He was grasping at straws because he didn’t want to believe the evidence. Becca seemed so pure and innocent, but he’d been burned before. Laura had pulled the wool over his eyes too. It looked like he didn’t have good judgment when it came to women. He looked at the exterior and didn’t see the corruption under the pretty skin and soft eyes.

The fax machine began to spit out pages, and he glanced at the first one then laid it down again. What a putz he was. He’d never been in a single good relationship in his life. Why did he think this one would be any different? He should have known better.

He heard footsteps in the hall, and his stomach tightened. The coming confrontation wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Good morning.” Becca smiled at him from the doorway.

“Hi.” He couldn’t bear to look in her face. Such seemingly innocent eyes and smile. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

He dared a glance at her. Wariness had replaced the open love on her face. That hurt, but what he had to say would likely keep that expression of devotion from ever crossing her face again.

“I wonder if you can explain this?” He walked to the fax and picked up the papers the bank had faxed over.

She took it from his fingers and read it over. “Transferred to my account? This makes no sense.” Her brow creased with a frown that deepened when she met his gaze. “You—you don’t think I did it, do you?”

When he didn’t answer, she thrust it back at him. “Ask Gram if she had anything to do with it.”

“There’s more.” He handed the faxed pages to her. “Four transfers in all, Becca—one a week. All into your account. Did you think you could just bleed Gram dry and no one would notice?”

“I didn’t do it, Max.” She met his gaze.

How did she do it—how did she manage to look so innocent when the truth was staring them both in the face? “Becca, you must admit it looks bad.”

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t be so quick to jump to the conclusion I’m guilty,” she said quietly. “But you never did say it yesterday, did you? Was it just a ploy to get my guard down so you could accuse me of theft?”

“I don’t want to believe it,” he said. “Help me understand. Did you need the money for something important?”

“I didn’t take it, Max, but it looks like it’s going to be impossible to convince you of that.”

Her eyes seemed enormous, luminous and shimmering. If she cried, he was going to turn tail and run. “How did the money get in your account if you didn’t do it? Who besides yourself would know your account number?”

He heard the desperation in his voice. Surely she had to realize he wanted to believe her. If she could just give him some reasonable explanation, he’d grab it with both hands. “That money didn’t just magically appear in your bank account.”

“I realize that. Someone obviously is trying to make me look bad. And succeeding.” She balled the papers up and tossed them at him. “Here, you figure it out. I don’t want to talk to you about this any more. I’m wasting my time when it’s clear you think I’m a liar and a cheat.”

“I’m going to have to talk to Gram about this.”

“Of course you are,” she said bitterly. “You’ve been looking for a weakness you could exploit, haven’t you? What a bonanza. Did you move the money yourself, Max?”

He didn’t give her question the dignity of an answer. “I want you to move the money back to Gram’s account.”

“With pleasure.” She dropped her purse from her shoulder and rummaged through it before drawing out her checkbook. She stalked to the phone and dialed with jerky movements.

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